


Unexpected Gladnesses

by rowanashke



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avenger Love-Ins, Captain America Bashing, Developing Relationship, Fluid Relationships, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Group Marriage, Group Sex, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-18
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2018-01-19 21:01:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1483762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowanashke/pseuds/rowanashke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events in New York, the Avengers scattered to do their own things. But for Thor, Tony, Clint and Bruce, it's not that weird to find themselves being pulled back. The glow of friendship quickly becomes something a little more complicated, but hey, they're Avengers. They deal in complications. They can make this work. And if not, well...they can at least have some fun along the way, right?</p>
<p>Relationships will be fluid and ambiguous, sex will be plentiful, and angst will be kept to a minimum (There's going to be some; you don't figure out this kind of relationship without a little bit of angst and a little bit of punching, but nothing earth-shattering, I think.) </p>
<p>Fair warning, I don't like Steve Rogers much. Just so you know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shot in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from the quote "Our brightest blazes of gladness are commonly kindled by unexpected sparks" ` Samuel Johnson.
> 
> This is a work in progress and shall be posted as I finish things-no promises on regular updates, but it shouldn't be too slow. I'm still working on a follow-up in the Sherlock DBITO story and there will probably be other muses that steal my attention from time to time. Just a fair warning. 
> 
> Oh, and apparently Clint has a very, very dirty mind. And mouth.

Ok, so. Pepper was gone-he was sure, he’d checked. That one little tell-tale sign: her missing perfume. That’s how he knew it was really over, when Pep took her perfume out of the bathroom cupboard.

He was still trying to decide how he really felt about it. On one hand, he was going to miss their loving like crazy. On the other, her freaking out every time he slipped into the Iron Suit was driving _him_ crazy. She loved him, and she couldn’t deal with him being in danger, but _shit_ that was part of what made him feel actually _alive_.

She couldn’t deal with his death wish. He didn’t blame her a bit, really. _He_ had a hard time dealing with his death wish sometimes.

Better to step apart, he decided regretfully. Let her go back to running the company and loving him from a safe, comfortable distance. Put some cushion between them, a safety zone for her heart, and she’d be fine.

He’d be fine.

“Jarvis?” Tony asked, flipping the wrench in his hand. “How’s the Hulk Buster looking?”

“The Hulk Buster suit is approximately 90% completed, Sir.” Jarvis’ voice was cool and soothing. “Fabrication is complete, and the final adjustments are being made.”

“Excellent.” He flipped the wrench again, then grimaced. Getting Brucey here to test it would take some doing, but it’d be worth it. He wanted to have a suit in case he ever had to go toe-to-toe with the Big Green. Not that he didn’t trust Bruce implicitly; he just liked to have all of his angles covered. _Especially the big, crazy angles that could put me through three layers of solid concrete and think it was hilarious._

Maybe he could have Thor punch him around a bit to prove to Bruce that it was a go.  Thor loved nothing better than trying to smash Tony’s pretty electronics into carbon dust. The sadistic bastard.

Then again, letting the Thunderer blow off steam was a good idea. He was all trying to make out like he was glad his mortal lover Jane had turned from him, but Tony was a fuckin’ genius, y’know, and it didn’t actually _take_ a genius to see the hurt and sorrow in Thor’s blue eyes whenever he thought no one was looking.

_Stupid bitch. Like you’re gunna do better than the Asgardian God of Thunder. Who just happens to be one of the nicest, most honest, best-natured guys I’ve ever had the pleasure of running into. And coming from me, that’s a pretty damn high compliment, since Steve’s a lot of those things but I can never stop mentally adding the ‘and a total douche-bag asshat’ to the end of it._

Tony grimaced. Ok, so most of his issue with Steve happened to stem from knowing Steve had buggered his _dad_. I mean, that was something you just didn’t…you just couldn’t be _ok_ with, in the long run. That was like, finding out your parents had sex in your hot tub. Just not _right._

Steve still didn’t know he knew. Tony wished to god _he_ didn’t know he knew.

“Sir, Agent Barton has arrived at the roof. You asked me to let you know.”

“Oh, yeah, thanks.” Tony sighed, reaching out and wiping his hand down. He’d missed the wrench and damn, that was bleeding pretty good. Fuck it all. Since he’d started messing around with different metals, trying to find the one that wouldn’t kill him, there’d been some nasty side-effects. Slow clotting was just one of them, really. The new element was holding, thank god, but it didn’t erase months of frantic tinkering from his body.

It would, eventually, but until then he just had to deal.

“Shit. Jarvis, bring him down here, would you? Do we have a…what the hell…uh, first-aid box down here somewhere?”

“Sir, you are bleeding rather excessively.” Jarvis’ cool voice wasn’t soothing anymore, it was actually kind of irritating. _Hen pecked by my own damn AI. What a world, what a world._

“Yeah, uh, that’s why I need the box?” He prompted, ducking under the table. He remembered seeing one somewhere…oh, yeah, ok. Here. “

 “Stark, did you cut off your god-damn _hand_?” Great timing. Tony lifted the box awkwardly to the workbench and flipped the catch, grinning at Clint as the man slid through the door that Jarvis unlocked for him. “Fuck’in A, man. C’mere.”

It was a relief to let someone else do the bandaging for a change-Tony usually fucked it up. At least he wasn’t drunk this time. That had been rather interesting. “Just a cut. Slow clotting, uh, y’know.”

Clint got the wound wrapped tightly and Tony winced at the throbbing. “You need a fuckin babysitter, Tony,” Clint muttered, frowning. “C’mon. Upstairs. You need something in you to help replace the blood. You’re already looking pale.”

“I’m fine,” Tony tried to retort, but the world chose that exact moment to do this weird swoop thing and suddenly Tony realized he was _not_ fine, really. Which was ok; there was someone here, this time.

Clint muttered under his breath the entire way upstairs, but past making sure the archer wasn’t _really_ pissed at him, Tony didn’t try too hard to figure out what he was saying. He just let his mind kind of zoom out, and when he came back to himself he was sitting in the lounge, clutching a can of Coke and focusing on Clint’s face, which was hovering somewhere over his lap.

“Last time someone went on their knees for me, I got a pretty damn fantastic blow-job,” Tony commented idly.

Clint snorted. “While I _do_ give fantastic blow-jobs, the point of this was to get you _back_ to the real world, Tony, not further out of it.”

Tony grinned, leaning back, then remembered to sip the pop he was holding. “Huh. Hadn’t figured you for a hot-dog stuffer.”

Clint rolled his eyes a t the euphemism and rose, brushing his knees off. “Why is that?”

“I thought you and Natasha…” Tony trailed off, waggling his eyebrows.

Clint gave him a tolerant grin. “Natasha is my sister, battle-companion and soul-mate pretty well wrapped up in one beautiful package. But there’s nothing sexual in there at all, and that’s actually pretty cool. She’s my best friend.”

Tony blinked, a bit taken aback. He felt he should be making some kind of snarky comment-he had a reputation to uphold, damn it-but nothing came to mind. “Huh.” Was all he could say, finally, and covered his embarrassment by taking a large drink of his pop.

“So.” Clint eyed him, his shrewd blue eyes picking out details that Tony was uncomfortably aware were all too easy to spot. The bags under his eyes, the uneven shave, the extra wrinkles that were appearing in his face. He looked nothing like the devil-may-care partying playboy he’d been less than a year ago, and he damn well knew it.

“So what?” Tony growled, shifting under Clint’s perusal. He hated this feeling, this feeling like he should be apologizing or making excuses or something.

“So how long’s it been since you got laid?” Clint asked, raising his eyebrows.

Tony blinked; that was _not_ the question he’d been anticipating. From the grin on Clint’s face, the damn archer was fully aware of it, too. “Uh. Pep’s been gone for…” He had to pause, to _think_ , because time had a terrifying way of blinding together, and without something constant in his life, something to remind him that a schedule wasn’t a bad thing, he could run for days without even realizing it. “Uh. Jarvis?”

Clint frowned a bit. “Miss Potts has been physically gone from the Tower for nearly two weeks,” Jarvis informed him. “The last time you engaged in physical intercourse with her was five days prior to that…”

“Enough, thanks, Jarvis.” Tony snapped, frowning. _Two weeks?_

“Holy shit.” Clint said, grinning still. “The great Tony Stark’s been dry for three weeks?”

“Yeah, it’s a tragedy,” Tony shot back, his mind still trying to fit the time into his memory. _I only noticed what, yesterday? The day before?_

“You know, I really do give _awesome_ blowjobs.”

Suddenly Clint wasn’t standing anymore. He was kneeling, sliding up between Tony’s legs, and Tony’s brain stuttered to a stop in contemplation of this. And Clint’s lips, why hadn’t he ever noticed how fucking _nice_ Clint’s lips were, all plump like that, and _shit_.

“Have you ever…” Clint asked, raising his eyebrow.

“Gotten a blowjob? Yes.” Tony said, still watching Clint’s lips. “From a guy? No. Not that I’m opposed, believe me, it sounds fucking fantastic to me.”

“Good.” Clint said, looking satisfied. “I’ve wanted to do this to you since the first time I saw you in your Iron Suit on TV.”

“Iron Man turns you on?” Tony asked, grinning a little now.

“Fuck yeah.” Clint said, leaning forward and nuzzling along Tony’s inner thigh. Tony gladly opened his legs, relaxing a little, and took another sip of his pop to wet his suddenly dry throat.

“I’d like to be fucked by the Iron Suit,” Clint said, his voice utterly normal despite the filth coming out of his lips. “Plastered to the side of a building, clinging on for dear life, while you pounded my ass with a metal dick attachment.”

“Oh…uh. Fuck.” Tony’s brain was _not_ processing this.

“Could you make me a metal dick attachment?” Clint asked, snaking his fingers up to undo Tony’s zipper.

“Uh.”

“Big and hard,” Clint continued, lightly tugging on Tony’s pants. Tony mindlessly lifted his hips, his eyes dazed. “Uh?”

“It’d be even more fantastic if you could figure out a way to have it actually squirt gallons of warm water into my ass when it ‘comes’,” Clint continued, his voice just a _touch_ wicked now. “Think of the water gushing into my ass, then spurting back out around the unyielding metal dick. It’d sprinkle down on the unsuspecting heads of passer-byes who’d have _no_ idea they were getting spattered with Iron Suit cum. And you could do it over and over and over again, fuck me raw, fill me and make me literally pass out, screaming your  name. And if you screwed up, or if I screwed up, well….” He chuckled. “I’d spend the entire time falling to not regret it a bit before my brains splattered on the pavement.”

Tony was openly gaping at clint, his mouth open wide. He’d forgotten to be aroused or anything, just completely, utterly floored by Clint’s declaration. “You,” he said finally, his voice low and almost awed,” Are _completely_ fucked up.”

Clint stared at him a moment, then suddenly dissolved into laughter, laying his head on Tony’s thigh. “Oh, god, you should _see_ your face right now…” The archer wheezed, a tear squeezing out of the corner of his eyes. “Oh, my god…”

“Fucker.” Tony said, glaring, but grinning too because _fuck_ that had been so weird. Hilarious, weird, and just a touch hot. Just a touch.

“You _were_ kidding, right?” Tony demanded, causing Clint to convulse again.

“I should just kick your ass,” Tony growled, but he was laughing, too, and even though it was totally weird to be laughing with his cock half-out of his underwear and Clint draped over his lap, it was good to, and Tony really wasn’t into thinking about stuff that much anyway. “Right out the god-damn window.”

“Aww…” Clint said, turning his face to nuzzle Tony’s cock again. “But then I wouldn’t get to make it up to you.”

“This had better be a _fantastic_ blow-job,” Tony retorted, flushing a bit.

“Ok,” Clint said, still grinning. And then he gently tugged Tony’s cock from his underwear, stroking his fingers almost lovingly along the half-hard length. “Wow, this is nice,” he murmured, and Tony felt an irrational surge of pride. _He_ liked his cock; it was nice to hear someone else liked it too. As weird as that might sound.

Clint teased him to full hardness with his tongue and lips and fingers, light, odd touches that felt good but unexpected, like when Clint did something with his tongue just under the sensitive head that involved buzzing while at the same time slipping his fingers down to gently roll and tug on Tony’s balls. He’d never had anyone play with those, really-most women went straight for the sucking, which was nice, but this foreplay before the blow shit was actually pretty nice. Pretty _damn_ nice.

Clint tilted his head and took Tony into his mouth, just a little, his tongue slipping around and across Tony’s glans and making Tony grunt in pleasure. Reaching out, Tony placed the soda carefully on the table, his other hand coming up to gently scratch at Clint’s skull-his hair was too short to grab, unfortunately. Tony loved tugging on hair. Clint rolled his eyes up, grinning a bit around Tony’s shaft, then pushed himself slowly down, letting his tongue flatten to vibrate along the underside.

“Fuck, you look hot right now,” Tony admitted, watching him with a half-smile. “Never really thought about your lips and my cock, but hey.” He scratched his fingers through Clint’s hair again and was rewarded by Clint’s low, garbled moan around his shaft. “Fuck yeah, do that again.”

Clint obeyed, and Tony sucked in a deep breath, the smile fading a bit into an intense look. For a while then, there was nothing but the lewd, sucking noises escaping Clint’s hollowed cheeks as he bobbed up and down, his head twisting in perfect movements, tongue mapping and tracing every inch of Tony’s engorged shaft. He was good; he was very good, and Tony could feel the slow building heat pooling in his stomach.

_Do I want to shoot off in his mouth, or…_ Tony hadn’t ever really been about guys-not that he’d ever made a decision not to be or anything. Just never really thought about it. But he knew the basic gay drill, and right now, he’d be hard-pressed to deny that the thought of stuffing his aching dick into Clint’s no-doubt tight as hell ass sounded pretty damn good.

Tony felt his breath hitching and abandoned it. For now. He’d just let this ride; Clint seemed more than happy to keep going, and his first gay encounter wasn’t really a discussion he wanted to have in the middle of a blow job. _Not a no, but shelved for later. Definitely an option to keep on the table though. Mmm, fuck._

Not too much longer; Tony felt the tightness starting to form and scraped his fingers through Clint’s hair again, groaning a bit. “Gunna cum,” he warned the archer, letting his head fall back onto the cushions. “Oh, fuck, I can’t…”

Clint responded eagerly; the movements sped up, the suction got impossibly harder, and Tony closed his eyes and let it happen, his hips twitching up uncontrollably into that hot, wet heat. The orgasm, when it came, rolled over him quite satisfactorily, curling his toes as he thrust a few times, groaning in pleasure.

Clint took it all, like a pro, sucking every drop of cum from Tony’s cock with avid pleasure. _He swallows, holy shit,_ Tony thought dazedly.

After, Tony let his body relax into the couch, flopping bonelessly into the thick white cushions, his mind a pleasant haze. _Yeah, definitely on the table._

Clint released his now-soft cock with a wet slurp and very gently tucked Tony back into his pants, patting the zipper with almost proprietary pride before slithering up the couch to stretch out next to Tony. The genius wasn’t against a cuddle after; he threw his arm around Clint’s shoulders and tugged the other man against his body, humming a bit in approval.

“Like?” Clint asked, grinning a bit.

“Fuck yah.” Tony replied, grinning back. “Fishing for compliments?”

“Fuck yah.” Clint shot back, then laughed. “Always nice to hear someone likes my work.”

“I think _like_ is an understatement,” Tony said, chuckling now. “I will even go so far as to say that your work was, as advertised, fantastic.”

“Good.” Clint hesitated a moment, then stretched up, kissing Tony gently on the lips.

_Decision time, I suppose, but I think I’ve already gone and made it, so what the fuck._ With that thought, Tony returned the kiss with interest, parting his lips just a little and inviting the archer to play. Now sure of his welcome, Clint shifted and deepened the kiss to something a bit more meaningful, slipping his tongue playfully along Tony’s lips before dipping inside, teasing and still oddly gentle.

Tony took control of the kiss, the way he always did, deepening it further until their tongues were slipping and sliding around each other’s, lips moving and massaging and _fuck, he kisses really well too._

Clint shifted, straddling Tony on the couch, and brought his hands up to rest on Tony’s shoulders. The contact was nice, and Tony took the opportunity to slip his fingers under Clint’s t-shirt and to stroke the archer’s smooth skin, enjoying the way the muscles rippled against his questing fingers.

The insistent bulge in Clint’s pants bothered him. So, like a good guy, _which I am, thank you_ , Tony dropped his hand and pressed his palm flat against the hardness, rubbing lightly, his fingers massaging around the poor thing.

Clint moaned into Tony’s mouth, surprised, then pulled back. Tony was pleased to see Clint was flushed and panting; his lips were puffy and there was that glaze in his eyes Tony knew so well. _Hell yah. I still got it. Nice to know._

“You don’t have to…” Clint started, but Tony leaned up and kissed him, cutting off the sentence rather finally. When they parted again, Clint was having a hard time keeping his moans behind his teeth, his hips rolling into Tony’s fingers.

“There’s a lot of damn things I don’t have to do in my life,” Tony said, grinning now. “I’m aware this falls into that category, but luckily for you, it’s slipped right into the ‘I really want to’ category. So shut up and unzip your damn pants for me.”

Clilnt laughed, then did as he was told, unzipping the pants with remarkably steady hands. _Sniper. Could probably take his shot if I was on my knees sucking him off._

Hah. Tony wondered if he’d ever…but honestly, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

Slipping his fingers into Clint’s pants, Tony was amused to note the lack of underwear. _Big archer spy boy goes commando. Wonder if that’s standard SHEILD uniform? Have to ask Fury._ Oh, that would be a hilarious conversation and now it was one Tony was determined to have.

Drawing Clint’s cock out, Tony stroked it slowly, not sure exactly what to do but figuring it couldn’t be that much different than jerking yourself off. Just a different angle, really. Clint was responding nicely to his touches, moaning and squirming, and Tony kissed him again just to taste the moans in his mouth.

Pretty soon he found a good rhythm, stroking Clint with his fist, twisting and paying full attention to the precum-slick head. Clint broke the kiss and rested his forehead on Tony’s shoulder and Tony grinned a bit in triumph-he couldn’t help it-then finished Clint off decisively, speeding up until Clint was bucking into his hand and shuddering as his milky white fluid spattered over Tony’s hand and chest.

He slowed, then stopped, turning his head to bury his nose in Clint’s hair just behind the archer’s ears. Fuck, but that was nice. This was all nice. He’d almost forgotten how nice it was, just to have someone’s weight on you and feel their stuttering, pleasure-laden breath against your skin. Even with Pep, the snuggling had been a minimum-she wasn’t the type to snuggle. She was more the type to bounce out of bed and take a long shower, which would have been more fun if she’d been willing to let him share.

“Nice.” Clint said after a moment, his voice almost back to normal. “Very nice. Thank you.”

“Hey, I live to serve.” Tony joked, nuzzling Clint again just because he could.

“Didn’t plan this, but for once, I’m more than happy to have gone off-book,” Clint said, chuckling. Sitting up, he kissed Tony briefly, then stroked his finger over Tony’s cheek. “Feel like crashing?”

“Yeah,” Tony admitted, leaning unashamedly into the caress. “Feel like curling up with me?”

“Yeah.” Clint said, looking pleased. And a bit surprised.

_He didn’t expect me to offer. Shit, what kind of relationships has he been in? Then again, I doubt there was much ‘relation’ in his ‘ships’; probably just random strangers in bars, quickies with agents, and that’s probably been it._

Tony felt a tug; that wasn’t right. So maybe this was his chance to make things a bit more right. He didn’t have a lot to offer-he was aware of how much of a bastard he was, on a normal basis, but what he had he was glad to give Clint.

“C’mon. How do you feel about taking showers with other people?” he asked suddenly.

-0-0-0-

After a long, leisurely shower full of making out and touching, they fell into bed together, too tired to go further but firmly aware that it was going to happen sooner or later. Sooner, if Tony had any say in the matter. Any lingering issues he might have had with the idea were quite firmly banished and Tony was even starting to think he might be willing to be the taker. _Uh, bottom. Whatever they call it. Stuffed, as opposed to stuffer?_

But sleep first, and sleep was good. Clint curled into his body, slipping his long, lean legs around Tony’s, and dozed off, and Tony tugged him a bit closer and decided that was a damn fine idea.

-0-0-0-

“Sir.” Jarvis’ voice, sounding both apologetic and urgent. “Wake up, sir. There is a priority one call on the line from Director Fury.”

“Fuck ‘em.” Tony groaned, cuddling closer to the warm body in his bed.

“Tony…” Clint’s voice, sounding both amused and firm. “No fucking Director Fury.”

“Awww, you’re getting all territorial already?” Tony quipped, grinning and refusing to open his eyes.

“Well, y’know. Gotta be some kind of line,” Clint shot back, chuckling. “C’mon. Duty calls, lazy bum.”

“Bleh.” Tony cracked his eye, then suddenly grinned. “Care if Fury knows you’re shagging his least-favorite millionaire philanthropist playboy?”

Clint blinked, then grinned back. “If it means not having to get out of bed right away, not a damn bit.”

“Good.” Tony hadn’t missed the way Clint’s eyes lit up just a little at the ‘shagging’ part and it made him want to giggle. Instead he sat up a bit, kissed Clint firmly, tucked the archer into his body, made sure all their dangly bits were decently covered with a sheet, and then directed Jarvis to patch Fury through.

“Well, good morning Stark.” There was just a moment of hesitation, and then, “Barton.”

“Director Fury,” Barton relied gravely.

“Well, it looks like you two are having fun,” Fury said, sounding highly amused.

“Yes. As you can see, I had firm plans to molest a certain ex-assassin this morning, so if you’d kindly skip the pleasantries so I can get back to business,” tony said, grinning.

“Yeah, well. Your plans are on hold. Sorry, Barton. Some crazy floating guy calling himself something stupid-what was it, Hill? Oh, yeah. _Lectriction._ Seriously? Alright, anyway. He’s doing his best to wreak havoc downtown. We need you both.”

“Lectricion?” Clint said, sounding highly annoyed. “As in _electrician?”_

“Maybe his E fell off,” Fury said, grinning now.

“Yeah, well, I’m gunna kick his A,” Tony grumbled. Flipping back the sheet, he slipped out of bed-he didn’t actually care if Fury got an eyeful of naked Tony. After all, it was Fury’s fault for calling.

Ignoring Fury’s obvious leer, Tony slipped on his pants and a t-shirt. “Anyone else coming in?”

“Banner and Romonov are out of touch, but Thor’s in-bound and will be at the tower in about ten. Rogers is in-bound for the scene to get us some reconnaissance.”

“Ugh. Tell Cap’n Idiot to be careful. I don’t really want to be cleaning up wibbly bits of fried Captain America from the streets,” Tony said, rolling his eyes.

“Aw, that’s sweet. Didn’t know you cared,” Steve’s voice. “Director, there’s a lot of damage down here but the area seems pretty well evacuated. Civilian casualties should be extremely low.”

“Good.” Tony mentally echoed the sentiment. “Stark, Barton…”

“Already gone sir.” Clint was dressed and only stopped to seize Tony and plant a hard kiss on his lips. “Suit up and carry me?” He suggested, grinning.

“Shut up,” Tony said, actually _flushing_. God, but Clint’s little fantasy about the Iron Man was going to be stuck in his head _forever_.

Clint’s answering chuckle was seriously down on the evil side.


	2. Thor's Healing...stuff.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brucie makes a short hello in the first part. Never fear, our favorite scientist will be back next chapter. In the meanwhile, enjoy some Clint/Thor 'healing' and Tony, who seems to be fixated on the word aroused.

Bruce scowled at the official, feeling the rage bubbling up behind his eyes. _Breathe, calm, you have to stay calm, breathe Banner, fuck fuck fuck._

It was bad. This was bad.

“You go.” The official snarled, waving the gun. “Go. Get out.”

“Our equipment is…” Shel, her voice flat and hard and angry. “That’s all ours, you asshole. You can’t keep us…”

But they could, and Banner could see that they planned on doing so. Several more officials, each heavily armed and nasty looking, were moving around in what, until just a few moments ago, had been their lab.

“We’re not _doing_ anything _illegal_ , damn it!” Mike, his reedy voice stressed. “We just made medicine! Dawa ya kufanya afya ya watu! Tu dawa!”

“Go!” The official snarled, ignoring Mike. “Get out, before you shot.”

Bruce heard, distantly, the slow beeping of his heart monitor. He was keeping silent; he _had_ to. But he had to get the other two out of here before he couldn’t control it anymore, which meant speaking. “Let’s go, guys,” he said, reaching out to grab Shel’s arm. “C’mon. It’s over.”

“No!” Shel tried to jerk her arm away, but Bruce tightened his grip. “Let me _go_. They can’t _do_ this…”

“We all knew this was a strong possibility,” Bruce said, gritting his teeth. The official’s grip on his gun was tightening, and Bruce had a bad feeling. “C’mon, they’re serious Shel. They’ll shoot us. Better abandon this and live than get shot down for _nothing_.”

_Of course, that’s all bullshit on_ my _end. They could shoot me all they wanted, and all I’d do is Smash. The Other Guy wouldn’t let them hurt me._

It wasn’t really a comforting thought.

Luckily Mike saw the wisdom in his words; together, they managed to get Shel to back down and headed out, saying goodbye to a lab full of expensive equipment, six months of work, and their ability to help any more sick people in this area.

Back at the house they’d been sharing, Shel raged and threw a tantrum, Mike pouted and moped, and Bruce…well, Bruce went out and did some yoga.

Just as he got into the fore-arm stand scorpion, he heard his cell phone ring. And not just _any_ tone either; he scowled, but gently lowered his body down to snatch the gleaming, _expensive_ toy off the ground and brought it to his ear. “What?”

“Nice to talk to you as well, Dr. Banner.” Fury sounded highly amused; Bruce closed his eyes, sucking in a calming breath. Funny how just the sound of Fury’s voice could jump his heart rate dangerously. “What do you want?”

“Got a job for you,” Fury said, getting straight to the point.

“Stuff it in your ass.” Bruce shot back.

Fury actually _laughed_. “Had a bad day?”

“Seriously, I’m not having this conversation with you.” Bruce said, then hung up.

The phone rang.

Bruce ignored it.

The phone rang again.

Bruce ignored it.

The phone rang.

Bruce answered. “Are you going to do this all day?”

“Yes.” Fury said, still sounding amused. “Gunna hear me out, at least?”

Bruce sighed, then allowed his body to relax, flumping onto his back. “What?”

“This is a job for the Doctor, not the Other Guy,” Fury said, the amusement leaking out of his voice. “We’ve picked up a couple of strange devices from a raid on a small-time terrorist group’s hideout. These devices are of completely unknown origins and purposes, and there’s no way this group of nothings should have had them. We gave them to Stark, and he’s requested your help in trying to figure out what they do.”

“You gave a completely unknown piece of possibly incredibly dangerous tech to a man crazy enough to push the button marked ‘do not push, this will blow up the universe’ just to see what happens?” Bruce demanded, closing his eyes.

“Yes.” Fury sighed. “Believe me, we don’t have a choice. SHIELD scientists have been working on figuring these things out for the better part of a year now.”

_Oh, jeeze._ Bruce sighed. “You’ve had them a _year_ and you don’t know _anything_ about them?”

“No.” Fury said, sounding tired now. “Except they glow a funny color when you shake them.”

Bruce opened his mouth, shut it, and sighed deeply. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“Nope.” Fury said, and Bruce heard the sudden grin in his voice. “What do you say?”

What Bruce wanted to say was _fuck off, I’m trying to save the world one antibody at a time,_ but honestly, with the collapse of his present lab that wasn’t really even true, was it?

And besides…curiosity was a terrible thing.

“Fine.” Bruce said, sitting up. “Send a plane.”

“You got it.” Fury said, and Bruce was a bit disturbed to hear the relief in Fury’s voice.

 

0-0-0

 

Clint yawned and rolled over, stretching luxuriously. Fuck, Tony had nice sheets. Of course, Tony had nice _everything_ , being a millionaire ect. ect.

Speaking of which, where was said playboy?

“Jarvis?” Clint asked, sitting up. “Where’s hisself at?”

“Mr. Stark is currently in the lab,” Jarvis said, unobtrusively bringing up the lights. “He asked me to notify him when you woke, however.”

“Mm, good.” Clint yawned again, then slid out of bed, wincing a bit. Not from fun things, either, damn it.

“Do you require medical attention, sir?” Jarvis asked.

“No. I’m good. Just a bit crispy.” Lectrician had proven a bit more complicated than they’d anticipated; Clint had a dozen electrical-type burns slashed across his body from the asshat’s flying whips of doom, Tony had blown _another_ Iron Suit, and even Cap was looking fairly ragged when they’d finally beaten the shit out of that idiot.  After which, they’d all come home, scarfed down a huge meal, and promptly collapsed into bed.

Well, beds, anyway.

A noise at the door made him tense, but just for a moment. _Safe. This is a safe house. Remember?_

“Agent Barton, Thor of Asgard is requesting that he be let in. Shall I open the door?”

“Yeah, sure.” Clint wondered what brought the big blonde god up here so early, but didn’t waste time pondering it. He’d find out soon enough. Instead, he grabbed his pants and slipped them on, wincing a bit. _Ok, that hurts more than a little. Maybe I should let someone look at a few of these._

“Agent Barton?” Thor asked, filling the doorway with big blond god sex. “I came to see how you were doing. You took many injuries in the fight yesterday, and I was concerned.”

“Thanks.” Clint flashed him a quick smile, then shrugged. “I’m alright. I probably need a check-up though; a few of these are deeper than I thought.”

Thor moved into the room and Clint, as always, paused to appreciate the sight. The man was just _delicious_ , which wasn’t a word Clint used very often. Those muscles, man. Those freaking _muscles_.

“May I?” Thor asked, polite as hell. Still, it was a tiny bit confusing. “When did you get to be a doctor?” Clint joked, but willingly turned to let Thor look at his back.

“I am not a doctor, Agent Barton,” Thor said, and Clint shivered a bit as one of Thor’s big, blunt fingers ghosted across his skin. “But, being an Asgardian, I do have a few special talents…”

And then something _wet_ and _slick_ traveled along one of the bigger burns on his back, sending a very confusing jolt of pleasure/pain straight to Clint’s dick. He groaned in surprise, then turned his head, giving Thor an incredulous look over his shoulder.

“Did you just _lick_ me?”

“Yes.” Thor said, smiling happily. “And see?”

Clint frowned, and then headed over to one of the walls. Of _course_ Tony had floor-to-ceiling mirrors. It _was_ Tony’s room, after all. Turning, Clint checked out his back, which looked a bit worse than he’d anticipated…

But one of the burns was noticeably lighter and cleaner than the others.

“Your spit has magical healing properties?” Clint asked after a moment, sounding both amused and incredulous.

“Yes.” Thor sounded delighted. “We often lick our wounds after battle to hasten the healing.”

“You lick each other?” _Ok, bad brain. Bad, bad brain. Do not think of piles of hulking Asgardians licking…shit. BAD BRAIN._

“If necessary,” Thor said, moving towards him. “Come. Let me take care of you.”

“Uh.” Clint hesitated. On one hand, having his burns taken care of sounded fucking great. On the other…

_Fuck it_. “Ok.”

Thor guided him to the bed, then directed him to lay flat on his stomach. Gritting his teeth, Clint did so, taking several slow breaths. _Ok. Just gotta keep a bit of control here. I have no idea if Thor would be freaked out if I start to hump the bed, so I just gotta stay calm, and then I can jerk off after I shoo him out._

“Just relax, my friend.” Thor said, and leaned down to swipe his tongue slowly along the same burn.

Clint groaned, biting his lip, and buried his face in the bedding. _Gunna be harder than I thought._

In fact, it was freaking impossible. The more Thor licked, the more jolts of pleasure-pain that shocked through his nerves, the less Clint was able to hold back the moaning, the humping, or the gasping. Every slow, torturous swipe of Thor’s tongue along his burns jacked up the intense burning pleasure, layer on layer on layer, until Clint was pretty much a moaning pile of jelly. A _completely happy_ moaning pile of jelly.

“It was not my intention to sexually excite you,” Thor said after a particularly dense moan. “However…”

_Huh?_

Clint felt the thunderer’s fingers on his pants hem and mindlessly lifted his hips, allowing Thor to strip them off. “Just relax, friend. I will take care of you.” Thor’s voice had dropped from his normal, fairly pleasant speaking voice into something much deeper. The vibrations sent chills down Clint’s spine, warring and mixing with the heated swirls already there.

_Oh, that voice…he could probably make me cum with that voice. Have to remember that for later._

Suddenly Clint squawked; Thor literally picked Clint up, positioning him on the bed. Still on his stomach, but Thor shoved a pillow under his hips to force his ass up. Clint squirmed a bit, totally happy with where this was going, and managed to get his arms under his chest so he could breathe. Breathing was good, really. Still, Clint found himself tensing a bit, if only at the reminder that he didn’t have much control over this situation. Thor was just so fucking _big_. And strong.

“Just relax,” Thor repeated, then suddenly brought his open palm down on Clint’s exposed ass _hard_. The resulting crack echoed oddly against the expensively draped walls.

Clint gasped in surprise, his hips jerking, and grinned into the sheets. _Holy shit that was nice._ “Ow, fucker.” He said out loud, laughing.

“My apologies,” Thor said, laughing. And not sounding at all sorry, either, Clint noted.

The slap had the intended effect; Clint’s body relaxed, and Thor went back to licking, his hands moving to grip Clint’s hips to keep him from moving. The position pretty much forced Clint’s ass into Thor’s groin; Clint was relieved to feel the ( _holy shit that’s enormous_ ) bulge of Thor’s arousal pressing into him.

At least Clint wasn’t the only one getting hot here. That would have been a _bit_ embarrassing.

“I fear readying your body to take my cock would take too long; I am impatient for release, and I believe you are as well,” Thor said, sounding regretful. “As you can feel, I am very well endowed.”

_Well, shit, don’t be humble or anything,_ Clint thought with another grin. _Then again, he’s a_ god _. I guess it’s just to be expected._

Clint heard Thor’s clothing rustle, then felt the hard, hot, velvet-smooth shaft sliding across his skin. “This will have to suffice, this time,” Thor said, his voice dropping a little more. “Spread your legs a little for me, lovely Midgard mortal.”

_How many times has he used_ that _line,_ Clint wondered a bit hazily. Not that he was complaining now, either. Doing as he was instructed, Clint arched his back a bit, spreading his legs, and was rewarded by another long, lazy swipe of Thor’s tongue along his shoulder and the feeling of a very large, very aroused cock sliding between his legs.

Not inside, no, but _fuck_ yeah, that felt good. Thor’s heavy, stiff rod pressed against his taint, the blunt head nudging into his aching balls, and the pressure went straight to Clint’s prostate in a way he’d never quite felt before. Weird, but good, and Clint rocked back a bit, feeling the slide of skin over skin, hot and slightly raspy and yeah, that was nice.

“Close your legs a little,” Thor said, his voice slightly ragged. Clint saw the reason immediately and did so, trapping Thor’s cock against his body.

Thor started to move, and the slick, sticky precum leaked out of his head, aiding the glide of their bodies together. Thor’s growly little moan and the way his hands flexed on Clint’s hip told Clint he was feeling it; Clint abandoned himself to the feeling, reveling in the contact, his body trembling and sweating in pleasure.

_Oh, fuck. This is nice._ Clint dropped his head to the sheets, moaning, and Thor’s huge hand suddenly wrapped around his cock, stroking in time with the thrusts of the thunderer’s hips. The movements were restrained and careful; Clint had the idea that Thor could be much wilder, but he was holding back in deference to his partner’s ‘fragility’.

_Fuck that. But I’ll wait; one of these days I’ll get him to fall apart completely and fuck me for real, and then, I might not be able to walk for a week but I’ll be the happiest full-body cast patient in New York._

But this was good, and it wasn’t long before Clint felt the familiar rumbling of heat building up in his stomach. He gasped a warning to Thor, who only increased the speed of his thrusts, sucking and licking on Clint’s neck before he came, hard, his seed gushing all over Clint’s exposed balls .

Clint went with him, groaning into the sheets as his own cock pulsed in Thor’s hand and messed the sheets under him. _Hope Tony don’t mind me gunking up his expensive sheets._

Thor continued to move, slower now, apologetically sucking on the bite that Clint hadn’t even really felt. When they finally came to a stop, trembling and sated, Clint smirked into the sheets and waited for Thor to climb off of him.

“Well. Good morning to you guys, too.”

Clint blinked, then looked over to the door to see Tony’s highly amused, slightly flushed face staring at them avidly. “Shit. Morning?”

“Man of Iron,” Thor greeted his friend happily, sliding off of Clint and tucking himself away no shame. “I apologize for dirtying your bed, but I was trying to help our friend the Archer with his wounds, and I fear I inadvertently aroused him.”

Tony blinked, then started laughing, almost helplessly. “Inadvertently aroused? Was that your problem, oh Archer?”

“Shut up,” Clint said, but he was grinning. “Yes. I was.” He turned over, then stretched, relieved to feel his back felt very much better. “If you had a big blonde hot god of Thunder licking you all over, you’d be inadvertently aroused as well.”

“It is true,” Thor said gravely, but the sparkle in his blue eyes gave away his humor. “My tongue has oft been accused of being arousing.”

“Oh, my god, would you stop saying arousing?” Tony said, snickering. “I came to tell you both that there are waffles-hopefully un-arousing waffles-and bacon and sausage and eggs and everything else I could think of as ‘breakfasty’ arriving in a few moments, courtesy of my money and an eager-to-please restaurant. So if you’re done being aroused for the moment, d’you wanna come eat?”

“Now who’s saying aroused too much?” Clint retorted, grabbing his pants and slipping them back on.

“You do seem to like the word aroused, Man of Iron,” Thor said, giving him a long look. “Perhaps, after breakfast, we could discuss your seeming fixation.”

Tony blinked, then grinned. “Huh. Breakfast and arousal. I think I can handle that.”

“You two are going to be the death of me,” Clint complained. But hey, he’d always claimed he wanted to die in bed, hadn’t he?

-0-0-0-

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments and kudos are the chocolate chips and butterscotch chunks in the big, delicious cookie of fanfiction.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos are love. Comments are like, freaking rainbow butterfly kitten kisses.


End file.
